Altered Reflection
by Hadronix
Summary: After one of her century-long naps while waiting for specific events to happen. Phoenix, the Tactician once named Morgan, notices a change in magic around her. Soon after, a familiar face pops out.


**A/N:** This fic is part of a fic trade with SquidbaggerOfWoomyAndNgyesness. Both of us have agreed to give the other full rights to the other's version of 'Phoenix' for the use of this fic. Neither of these fics are meant to make one 'Phoenix' seem better than the other 'Phoenix'. This is purely for the purpose of just having a battle between two custom F!Morgan named Phoenix.

Direct references to either of the origin fics are kept to a minimum, so that you all don't have to read through either of them to understand why each Phoenix is the way she is.

As for mine, I'm not concerned on how they both meet, akin to 'Feat Dante from the Devil May Cry Series!' This is just going to be a battle without any actual plot going on. On the topic of plot, this is also AU, so anything that happens here does **not** affect the canon of either Phoenix.

Lastly, uh… enjoy!

* * *

Among the vast green plains of Ylisse stands a single woman. Green hair adorns her head, which has grown long enough to reach well past her shoulders and down to her waist. However, it is clearly unkempt, as dirt and debris litter the otherwise verdant green shine it **should** have. Tips are frayed, her hair is overall rustled, and extremely greasy. Not that she cares, obviously, since she did allow it to get this bad in the first place.

However, due to the flexibility of magic… at least it doesn't smell. The same can be applied to the rest of her body. Dirty, sticky with sweat, but otherwise smells as fresh as a rose. A true paradox.

This woman's name is Phoenix.

If Frederick knew of such spells, he would no doubt take up training in the magical arts.

The woman frowns at the mere thought of Chrom's and Lissa's only retainer. One man entrusted to two Royals… absurd.

She flexes the fingers on her one hand… the one that hasn't been sliced off by an enraged half-Manakete. A half-Manakete who drew so much power from her Dragonstone, that it outright shattered mid-fight. The woman lost her hand and her Levin Sword to that half-Manakete. If she closes her eyes, she can still see the pure rage in her… no, it wasn't just rage. Rage makes it sound human, and that woman is anything but human in that moment. She was an animal, and animals are at their worst when they are cornered.

The half-Manakete's name is Yasei.

How Phoenix lost her own focus so much is beyond her, no wait… she knows. She could have easily picked off each and every unit in that army, except… except that **she** just had to go and kill **her**. No, it wasn't the half-Manakete that killed the dirtied green-hair woman's love, it was some… animal. A walking, talking bear. A bear that just didn't know when to keel over and die. _'Undying…'_ She mentally scoffs. There's only one unkillable force here, and it sure isn't that dual sword wielding fuzzball.

That bear is called Lotus.

And should Phoenix ever find Lotus again, it won't be pretty. She'll be sure to magically shackle her and magically rip her apart for killing **her**. Phoenix's love interest was Severa.

Rage boils up as the scene repeats. A set of events that happened so smoothly, like Lotus has been practicing it her whole life. One moment, Severa is pushing Lotus back, the next the latter trips the former, and the next, Severa has a hole in her head before she even fell a few inches. _"Good night, sweetie…"_ Is what she **coos** when Severa's body went limp.

Phoenix grits her teeth, an aura of magic leaving her. Not just normal magic, though, it is accompanied by the sickly purple-green taint of Fell Magic. The Brand of Grima on her remaining hand pulses. She turns around quickly enough to have her Grandmaster's cloak catch some wind and she walks off. She has an urge to kill right now. Sure, it may not be Lotus, but she'll make do with someone else.

Better to vent her anger than to lose focus again. She can't afford to lose focus in another major fight.

She reaches into her coat and feels for her tomes. The reassurance of her favored Mjolnir tome rests there, as does the Nosferatu tome. Dropping to her waist, the Steel Sword obediently stays in place. All that's missing is her treasured Levin Sword. That familiar weight on the other side of her body is absent… almost taunting her. A reminder of her failure to kill about a dozen people.

Embarrassing.

Phoenix holds in place as she feels the distinct 'tinge' of magic fill the air. But… she's the only one here for miles. Her already enhanced Manakete senses would let her know if there was anyone even remotely near her. She then feels the rush of fresh wind hit her back, so she turns on the spot, steel sword out and…

Well, deja vu at its finest. A person with an oversized Grimleal cloak lies on the ground… just like how Chrom found Phoenix's father. Just like how Phoenix woke up on the cold stones of that temple… twice. Given the bulkiness of the cloak, her first assumption is that this is, in fact, Robin. However, her honed senses fail to pick up the scent that she associates with men, so instead she goes over if time has been altered to where this is a female version of her father… or if she's yet another Morgan.

Despite all the power Phoenix possesses. Despite all the knowledge she holds. She still has yet to grasp all the technicalities of time travel. Maybe it's something she'll never fully understand.

"Ggnnh…" The female Robin or Morgan grunts… but then Phoenix picks up another scent, well several scents. This one is 'a' Morgan. Manakete blood, Dragonstone… Tiki.

…

Mother.

A sudden pang hits her, not just a distinct and almost foreign feeling of sorrow, but also anger. Mother, peaceful mother. Phoenix's mother, her world's Tiki, lies murdered. Not by some skilled swordsman wielding a Wyrmslayer, no. Her father killed her mother, whilst under Grima's control… and if that wasn't enough, he forced Phoenix to be a gambit, making her the next vessel should things go wrong.

Then she went back in time with the others, and her alternate father ultimately sacrificed himself to eliminate Grima. Her alternate father killed her father who killed her mother. Unfortunately in alternate-Robin's intentions, he knew not of Grima-Robin's back-up plan. All of that Fell Magic did **not** leave the world, as it had a place to go.

The woman at the time was named Morgan, though now she calls herself Phoenix.

Could… could this Morgan be an alternate version? One where Robin didn't forcibly burn Grima's Brand onto her hand? With curiosity rising, she helps the other Morgan up.

She then hopes this one isn't an amnesiac, too.

"Hey, wake up." She gently states, whilst patting her face with a slightly magically chilled hand.

"...huh?" Yep, same voice, same face, same… well, her hair is as short as Phoenix's was before her long distance trip… and not as filthy. She still has her left hand and her Levin Sword, too… but no Steel Sword. "Ah!" She stumbles backward when her eyes focus. "Wait," She waves her hand, "You're… me?"

"An alternate version, it seems." She supplies, "I never guessed that I would see another Morgan…"

"Who's Morgan? My name is Phoenix." A short silence follows.

"...By Naga's left tit." Phoenix, the one-handed one, mutters. "Why?" For the sake of her sanity, Phoenix resolves to think of her as Morgan, rather than Phoenix.

"Because that's my name." In that moment, she comes off as aggressive. "So, you're Phoenix, too?" Yet, before the 'real' Phoenix could follow up, "What did you pull me from my world for?"

"I did not. I was simply minding my own business and out appears this random portal, as if I hadn't dealt with time travel enough already." She bites back.

The two stare each other down.

"Then you'll help me get back, 'Phoenix'." Morgan spits out.

"I've no reason to, 'Morgan'. Don't push your problems on me."

Morgan raises her hand, where the Brand of Grima resides, "You will listen to me."

To which Phoenix does the same, "No, I won't."

Morgan's eyes flick downward, "You're pretty weak, then… losing your hand."

"You'd lose a hand to, if you fought a dozen of pissed off soldiers that could send Chrom's top six soldiers running."

She scoffs, "Mind making that tall tale even less believable? You'd be dead against that many."

"Maybe if I was as pathetic as you." Phoenix spits out, but then stops… and takes a quick breath. "No, forget it. I'm not letting you anger me, to."

"Really? I'd say you've already been pissed **on**! Look at you! It's like you crawled out of the trash!" She gestures to the scene around them, "Is this the timeline where Robin threw you away?"

A short pause, "No, this **will** be the timeline where I kill Robin and the rest of the Shepherds."

Which seems to have caught her interest, "'Will be'? Explain yourself."

Phoenix smirks, "Ylisse has only recently been established as a nation, girl. You are several thousand years early before Robin has even been born."

"Then what the hell are you doing here?"

"Waiting." She yawns with a stretch, "Might take another century long nap." She glances at Morgan, "I'd invite you to join me, but I prefer being alone… so, get out of here."

"Not until you help me get back."

"I'm not wasting my magic on **helping** you." Venom between them rises.

"Oh? But you can handle a dozen 'impossibly' strong soldiers on your own. What's a little portal to you?" Morgan mocks.

"It isn't. I'm just not using my magic on such a foolish wish." Phoenix counters.

The air between them is tense, before Morgan unsheathes her Levin Sword. "You **will** take me back to my timeline… by order of Grima." Her Brand flashes purple.

"Grima can't order himself around, **girl**." She outstretches her hand, "If you want to see power, keep an eye on your precious sword…" Dark whispers pour from Phoenix's mouth, ancient magics… spells she weaved herself, empowered by Grima's Brand.

"I will not!" She readies her stance, charges and…

"...Shatter." Phoenix just barely whispers. Morgan's Levin Sword begins glowing purple, a mist surrounds it, then solidifies onto it. A half-second later, the blade cracks, before shattering into thousands of tiny shards.

Phoenix smirks.

"Wha-?" Morgan gasps, momentarily shocked that her Levin Sword lies in fragments.

"You're outmatched, 'Morgan'. Turn around and leave. You aren't worth my time." Phoenix turns on her heel and starts walking away.

"After that offense!?" She shouts, "And you think you can just walk away from me like that?!" Phoenix's ears twitch as she catches the distinct 'hum' of magic, so she hops to the side, narrowly avoiding a simple Flux cast. That was more to catch her attention, rather than damage her. "'Phoenix', you **will** get me back to **my** timeline! Even if I have…"

"...Alright." Phoenix calmly replies. "You've got a point, actually." She nods as she turns around, "If you don't return to your timeline, then how is Grima going to conquer your world? I suppose there is a common cause here."

Surprised by her sudden reasoning, Morgan places her Flux tome back into her coat. "You're right. It wouldn't do this world any good if you died here, too… even if you are here several thousand years early… for whatever reason. So, let's get this over with."

Phoenix smiles, "I'm glad you understand." She claps her hand, "So, let's get this over with, shall we? First, allow me to pinpoint that temple that is temporary distorted..." She begins muttering an incantation, Dark Magic begins pouring out from her being. "Ruin!" A void appears from beneath Morgan, and strikes the duplicate with the Dark Magic.

However, it seems Morgan is more resilient than she lets on.

Morgan scowls. "You deceiving little…" She whips out her own Ruin tome. "You will pay for that! I'll rip this world apart myself, then I'll do the same to my timeline! Ruin!" With a tome, Morgan's spell comes out considerably faster.

"Pathetic." She takes the spell head on, suffering not more than a few ticks of annoyance.

"Hmph." Ruin goes back in… Waste comes out. "Waste!" In response, Phoenix conjures a quick barrier, which takes the brunt of the spell.

"I got one hand, and I'm still above you." Phoenix smirks as she begins another incantation.

"Cocky bitch… Waste!" She attempts again, this time the spell lands true. The rank of the spell is enough to rip through some of Phoenix's resistance.

"Goetia." Phoenix casts in kind, expertly puncturing the Waste tome… and Morgan's hand.

She cries out in pain as the spike of Dark Magic fades, leaving an open wound and a useless tome. "You'll **pay** for that!" She then pulls out yet another tome using her other hand, Goetia.

"It's a shame you rely so heavily on tomes, girl. Perhaps if you had time to practice all of them and memorize the incantations…" A short pause, "Like so… Arcfire!" Another quick muttering and a fireball soon follows.

However, due to the rank of the spell, Morgan essentially bats it to the side, "Goetia!" Phoenix steps back… and has her stubbed arm pierced by a second spike. "Heh…" She chuckles, "Not so powerful now, are you?"

"Goetia!" Phoenix casts in kind, though Morgan steps back as she did, then to the side to avoid a second, then a third.

"I'm not falling for the same tricks, fool." Morgan sneers.

Phoenix smirks. "Ruin." She chants instead, forming a second dark void to… "Goetia!" The circle fades in favor of the spike, going straight through Morgan's side, not enough to kill, but enough to rip in a few inches.

She must have used her own Dark Magic to redirect the spike, then. Oh well, such are the troubles of a two people versed in Dark Magic fighting each other.

"Hmph." She huffs. "You want to keep dancing around with your tome-less spells? Fine." She holds out her Dragonstone, "...The transfer hasn't fully completed, but it will be enough to rip you apart, you second-rate copy!" Her form shifts as it takes on the mighty dragon form… though it seems to be a cross between the normal Manakete dragon, with its body shape, and Grima's dark scales and extra wings. "Expiration!" She roars, sending out a multitude of spikes.

"Tch…" Phoenix feels several rip through her… nowhere important, at least. But she also can't take much more risk. "You wish to see power, girl? Fine." She starts channeling yet another spell, "And this one **won't** miss, trust me. I'm going to turn you into a scaled carpet."

"Not if I kill you first! Expiration!" She casts...

At the same time Phoenix finishes her own, "...Break." Akin to Morgan's Levin Sword, a layer of purple forms around her current dragon form. A mist soon follows, clinging to… it actually passes into Morgan, seeping into her body. More specifically, her bones. Also as with the sword, the bones splinter and crack, before outright being reduced to not much more than bone dust. "Gnh…" That doesn't mean Phoenix left that unscathed, as focusing on her spell left her wide open… one, two, and three punctured her. One costed her the use of her right arm. The second speared upward through her left thigh partially into her body. The third intruded from her back, piercing several rib bones, and part of her left lung.

A few seconds later and the spikes dissipated, since the caster isn't available to maintain the magic, they cannot continue to be.

Doesn't change the fact that Morgan will only be alive for a maybe a minute. "..." Without bones, she's unable to talk… well, she still has her teeth.

Still, she's alive for a bit, and Phoenix is kind of desperate for some life of her own. She twists her coat around until the Nosferatu tome drops out. She kicks the Dark tome open. "Nosferatu." Morgan lets out no more than a whimper, if it can even be called that. Phoenix feels the feeling of her arm again, and picks up the tome. Then walks forward with a satisfied smile on her face. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"..." Not that she could even glare, since her eyes are, by all means, on the ground. No bones, no support.

"Hmph…" Phoenix huffs. "Well, I have enough life to survive, but that doesn't mean I'm going to take chances with **you**… I already got one literally unkillable woman on my trail, I don't need a second one." She pulls out her Steel Sword and rams it through Morgan's head… her scales not offering nearly as much protection as her skull would. She then twists the sword for good measure. "I suppose the Shepherds win in your world, then… oh well. It's only one out of an innumerable amount. I'm sure it wouldn't hurt to let them have their peace." Phoenix rises and walks away, "Speaking of peace… I think I'm about ready for my next nap." For emphasis, she yawns. "I did use up more magic than I anticipated… oh well." She shrugs it off. "More important things first… I need a good spot **to** sleep…"


End file.
